100 Situations
by gypsymuse
Summary: A series of short stories putting Booth and Brennan into, well, a hundred different situations.  Written for the LJ community of the same name.  Did I mention that there's a good chance that most of those situations will be of an adult nature?
1. Chapter 1: Digitus Impudicus

This is the first in a series of short fics written for the 100_situations community on LiveJournal. The prompt for this one was "Finger."

Of course, _Bones_ and its characters are the property of Hart Hanson and FOX, and no copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

_Digitus Impudicus_

_by Gypsymuse_

_

* * *

_

"Did you know that the custom of extending the middle finger in an insulting manner dates back to the Roman Empire?"

Seeley Booth flexed the phalanges of his right hand, having just offered the salute in question to the driver of the Maxima which had just cut them off in afternoon Beltway traffic. "Is there any subject you can't deliver a dissertation on, Bones?"

"Of course; there are many subjects with which I am only passingly familiar. However, it so happens that just last week Dr. Hodgins got in an argument with Mr. Nigel-Murray which resulted in Hodgins making that particular gesture, whereupon Mr. Nigel-Murray felt compelled to explain the history behind it. It was really quite fascinating; I don't know why Jack stormed off the platform muttering obscenities."

Booth kept his face carefully neutral. "I can't imagine."

"The Greek playwright Aristophanes made the comparison between the third finger and-"

"Isn't it the second finger?"

"Third; you count beginning with the thumb. As I was saying, Aristophanes made the comparison between the third finger and the penis. Even in those times, it was considered to be an aggressively phallic gesture. What?"

"Aggressively phallic. Right. You ever flip anybody off, Bones?"

"Of course."

He glanced at her sidelong, a slight smirk crooking up the corner of his lips. "You ever flip me off?"

"Sure, behind your back." She poked his shoulder lightly. His right hand left the steering wheel and landed, very casually, on her left thigh. The middle (third, he reminded himself) finger extended as its neighbors curled under, and began to stroke softly along the inseam of her tight jeans. Brennan pulled in an almost imperceptible breath.

"What about you?"

"Have I ever flipped you off? Yeah, I have. But you know what? I have a lot more fun getting you off than I do flipping you off." The extended digit crept upwards. Brennan squirmed, parting her legs to allow it better access. "So you tell me, Bones; is this finger aggressively phallic enough for you?"

"It is," she replied, sounding only slightly breathless, "though it's no substitute for the real thing." He was stroking her shamelessly now, pressing firmly against the seam that curved along the juncture of her thighs. Brennan's hips lifted to grant him better access. "Booth, watch the road!"

Tires squealed and horns blatted as he twisted the wheel one-handed, returning the drifting Sequoia to its proper lane. Beside them, an older woman in a Passat offered Booth a jaunty one-finger salute before stomping the pedal and pulling ahead. Brennan snickered, squeezing her thighs together to relieve a bit of the mounting pressure. Booth returned his right hand to the steering wheel, giving her a rueful glance as he did so. He could hardly wait to get her home and give her the finger in earnest.


	2. Chapter 2: Calling In

The prompt for this chapter was "Bad." And as we all know, sometimes being bad feels pretty good.

* * *

_Calling In_

_by Gypsymuse_

* * *

Seeley Booth's romantic afternoon was not progressing as romantically as anticipated, thanks in large part to his partner's obviously divided attentions. Her customarily singular focus wavered irritatingly between him and her phone, and not even the idyllic setting of the secluded grove he'd brought her to could keep her mind on his seduction. After her gaze strayed to the BlackBerry for the fifth time in as many minutes, Booth choked back a snide remark and forced himself to take a softer approach. Cupping her cheek in his hand, he gently turned her back to face him, holding her gaze and dipping in quickly to capture her lips with his own.

"Nobody's gonna call and bust you for playing hooky today, Bones," he murmured, nibbling at the lower lip she'd been worrying between her teeth. "When's the last time you called in sick, anyway? Sometime in the twentieth century?"

"Don't you think it will look suspicious, that we both called in on the same day?" Both her expression and her tone were clearly troubled, though not enough so to keep her from leaning back in for another kiss. Booth grinned at her, tucking a curl behind her ear and letting his fingers trail back down along her jawline.

"I think it's highly unlikely that Hacker will call Cam and check up on us. Geez, this really does bother you, doesn't it?"

"It does, yes," she admitted, sitting up straighter and picking at something on her pants leg that only she could see. "I'm afraid I'm just not very good at being bad."

"You're _great_ at being bad when it counts," he assured her, bumping her shoulder with his. "And maybe there's such a thing as being too honest, you know?"

She didn't. "I don't think it's ever possible to be too honest, Booth."

"Look, sick and personal days are part of your benefits package, right? You work for them; you earn them; you're entitled to take them. Call it a mental health day."

"My mental health is impeccable," she sniffed. He laughed out loud.

"No argument there. So what excuse did you give when you called in, anyway? You're such a crappy liar, it had to be good."

"Just because I am an honest person doesn't mean that I'm incapable of lying, it just means that I prefer not to have to do it. For your information, I merely left Cam a message stating that I was feeling unwell after overexerting myself over the weekend." She leaned in closer to him, looking deeply into his eyes, and added with a smirk, "That was actually more of an exaggeration than a lie. I _did_ overexert myself this weekend."

"Yeah, I remember," he agreed, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her down over him. She responded by trailing hot little kisses up the side of his neck. "If you're not careful, you might end up overexerting yourself again today. Maybe more than once."

"Then it's fortunate that we're both in excellent physical health, isn't it?" Her husky laughter vibrated pleasantly against the hollow of his throat as she made her way back down, tugging at the neckline of his t-shirt to give her better access. "What excuse did you give when you called in?"

"Told Hacker's secretary that I was sick."

"You definitely lied. You're obviously in peak condition," she added, attacking his shirt from the opposite end now, "though I think I ought to do a full examination just to make sure."

"Oh, Dr. Brennan, you are so wrong," he growled, grasping her upper arms hard as her tongue made contact with his navel, swirling and dipping. "I am _so_ sick." When she finally looked up at him, he waggled his eyebrows suggestively and gave her a loopy grin. "_Love_sick, baby."

"Booth, that was _horrible_," Brennan groaned, rolling off him to flop dramatically onto her back. She was smiling, though, and her moment of passivity gave Booth the necessary opening; the tickle attack was swift and merciless, and left his opponent a gasping, wriggling mess, begging for mercy between shouts of helpless laughter. He relented at length, brushing her hair back and placing the back of his hand against her forehead.

"Gosh, Bones, I think you may be developing a fever. You feel really hot."

She sat up slowly, reaching out for his hand. Her fingers located his pulse point and pressed in firmly. "Booth, your pulse is racing. That could be indicative of something very serious." Sweeping her gaze down the length of him, she paused at belt-buckle level and added, wickedly, "You also appear to be experiencing some localized high blood pressure and swelling."

Gaining his feet with a little difficulty, Booth pulled her up with him. "Then I guess we'd better go home and check each other out before it gets any worse, right?"

Gripping his hand more firmly, Brennan headed off toward his truck at a run. "Yeah. And maybe you'd better turn the siren on, too."


End file.
